


Ethereal

by KillerQueen20



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 19th Century, Aziraphale and Crowley Through The Ages (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Aziraphale likes big fluffy dresses and lace, Bittersweet Ending, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Dominant Crowley (Good Omens), Drunk Crowley (Good Omens), Emotional Crowley (Good Omens), F/M, Female Aziraphale (Good Omens), Female-Presenting Aziraphale (Good Omens), First Kiss, Historical, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Jealous Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Multi, One Shot, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Crowley (Good Omens), Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:41:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21909136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KillerQueen20/pseuds/KillerQueen20
Summary: An elegant lady, a drunk demon, and a starry night. Nothing can go wrong, right?
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 107





	Ethereal

**London, 1813**

Crowley was an impatient being by nature, he didn't like to wait but for Aziraphale, well, without going so far you have to see when he was waiting for him before going to an important event.

The demon struck his foot with annoyance on the ground, trying not to be irritated and loud but without shouting he asked the angel. "Are you ready?"

Aziraphale didn't answer him, it wasn't necessary, he saw him come out of the darkness and felt as if someone had hit him hard in the stomach, breaking down all the barriers he had lifted around him.

It wasn't Aziraphale, well, it was Aziraphale, but ... Ugh, he can't even explain it, but it's because the angelic vision that comes before his eyes leave him breathless.

It seems that Aziraphale has opted, like him, to the custom of changing gender with the ease that being a demon or angel grants. He must admit, without shame, that Aziraphale seemed like a dream embodied in reality.

Her hair, fastened in an elegant hairstyle with some curly loose strands, made her perfectly appreciate the sweet face of the angel now with softened features that made her look more adorable than usual. And that little smile he gave her, framed by pink lips, stunned him completely.

"Crowley, I'm sorry I made you wait." Dammit, even his voice was beautiful. Now he wondered how he would survive an entire evening by his side without falling on his knees.

Crowley tried to be unchanged when the reality was that hundreds of emotions were bubbling inside. So, risking ridicule, he extended his arm to Aziraphale's direction and said in a forced serene voice.

"Let's go" He was grateful that his voice came out as normal as possible but all effort was in vain when he turned his gaze to the angel and saw his face covered by a small blush that made her look more... beautiful before his eyes.

Shit, he really didn't know how he would survive.

[…]

Jealousy. Jealousy was, by nature, a selfish feeling, typical of a demon, experienced when someone perceives a threat to something they consider their own. Very different from the envy that occurs when someone desires or wants what someone else has.

Therefore, what he felt was not jealousy, but envy, because, no matter how much he felt in his soul, Aziraphale was not his, although he wanted it, she wasn't and probably never would be.

Crowley had felt, as was natural in a demon, envy for much of his existence, but he could swear that that feeling had not increased as much within him as he did at that time, while seeing how Aziraphale was the owner of the attention of several gentlemen of the place.

When he saw her walking around the room, exuding grace and elegance at every step he took, he squeezed the cup more tightly in his hand, causing it to finally break and the liquid it contained drained all over his arm.

No, it didn't bother him that Aziraphale enjoyed the evening, it bothered him how the intemperate looks of several men perched on her, even if he himself was one of those men.

So, when he finally saw her alone, free from anyone else's attention, he went to her, not caring that the wine still slipped on his arm, full of all the confidence in the world. Same that disappeared at the moment in which Aziraphale noticed his presence and turned to see him with a smile that dismantled any confidence sign that might have on his part.

"Crowley..." Aziraphale said simply and the demon gave himself the chance to see more carefully the figure of Aziraphale, covered in a cream-colored dress full of lace and other details. Vibrant blue eyes, somewhat robust figure, but with perfectly balanced curves, harmonious face and charming smile. Oh, he couldn't blame others for not taking his eyes off her, had they not done so, he would have considered them distraught or blind.

When he realized that the silence that had been made around him was uncomfortable and made him look like he was out of place, he cleared his throat a little and said in the most gallant and hoarse voice he could do "Shall we dance, angel?"

Aziraphale's bemused smile was the first glimpse that his hopes would be broken. "I'm sorry, Crowley, another gentleman has already asked me and I have accepted, but..."

He didn't even let the angel finish talking, he left him with the word in his mouth and quickly walked away from the place, hoping he could leave there before the dance began.

He didn't make it and had to see from the distance his angel dancing with a stranger. That scene was enough to make Crowley's evening bitter, who thought bitterly that while the others were interested in Aziraphale just because of her appearance, he wanted to be by her side because he knew that under all that makeup, dresses and long hair was his angel, simply his angel, and that seemed the best there could be.

[…]

That he and Aziraphale met after the dance was a fortuitous event that he deeply thanked with his whole soul. A real shame that he wasn't in the best conditions.

Aziraphale found him in one of the gardens, while he stumbled around, trying to uselessly cover up his obvious drunken state.

"Crowley," Aziraphale called his attention, with some hints of anger in his voice, knowing immediately that he wasn't all right.

"Angel..." he replied without looking directly at her because he knew that looking at her was enough to expose his weaknesses.

"You're drunk, let me help you," she said sweetly, approaching him slowly but barely in front of him, he took her tightly by the arm, in a way that would not have been considered chivalrous or correct, but he didn't care much at the time.

Aziraphale quickly dodged his grip, transmuting his beautiful face into a frown and annoyed frown. "Can I know what's wrong with you?" Aziraphale asked.

The indignation became part of him, although he didn't even know why "What happens to me?! What happens to me…"

Last thing he would say, because the next thing he knew was that he had cornered Aziraphale against a wall, dangerously bringing his face close to that of the angel.

With Aziraphale's face so close to his, he could only admire the soft and delicate features of her face covered by a stronger blush that made him feel improper things towards a lady like Aziraphale was at that moment.

Without a doubt, Aziraphale was a completely ethereal being, if he had not known, he would have thought that Aziraphale was an angel on earth.

He laughed foolishly at the comparison and unleashing his impulses, pounced on the blonde, kissing her lips anxiously, wanting more of it.

"Crowley ..." He heard Aziraphale mutter when they parted a little but before he could stop, Aziraphale had taken his face with both hands and without adding anything, she kissed him again.

It was a chaste, sweet kiss, without being coarse but full of need, as if that kiss had to be given no matter what.

Crowley savored the angel's lips, keeping that data in the depths of his memory, to be able to remember it, even 1000 years in the future.

He gently stroked the angel's hair, almost feeling as if he was touching the clouds. Then he lowered his hands to the angel's hip, not daring to move beyond, feeling unable to spot Aziraphale's purity.

They separated and Crowley could feel butterflies stir his stomach before the feeling of remorse invaded him. He looked at Aziraphale, her eyes dilated and trying to regulate his breathing, who in the moonlight made him look even more ethereal than before. And Crowley hurt, even more, having to resist.

"No, I can't," he said, suddenly moving away from Aziraphale, almost as if he burned him.

"Crowley ..." Aziraphale tried to approach him again to calm him down, but Crowley prevented him.

"No angel, it will be better if you forget this... Yes, forget this, please," he said simply and left.

If Crowley had looked in Aziraphale's direction, he would have seen the angel's face decompose into a scabrous sadness, but Crowley, without being conscious, left her, not knowing that, for the first time, it was the one who broke Aziraphale's heart.


End file.
